Maid For Him

Life Goes On

Syd'nee's POV

After what seemed like a century, the girl finally relaxed her firm grip on me; a painful pulse beating throughout my arms as I witnessed the purplish-blue color of a bruise beginning to form on my left bicep. I glared over at her, fury rising inside me, but as I met her gaze my face began to soften- adoration and excitement was pouring out of her like a four year old who opened a present and received the toy they'd been begging for all year. I blushed feveriously, never really seeing someone look at me in the way she did. She made me feel loved, wanted, and most importantly; accepted. I'd never really gotten respect, or praised for really anything in my life. 

"I never ever got a maid as young as you before!" She exclaimed with a bright smile. "Father usually likes to keep the older ones, something about experience and class. But you," She continued, while smiling and sizing me up. "You're perfect! You're young, pretty, well-kept... a little too quiet if you ask me, but we can most certainly work on that!" She squealed giddily clasping her hands together and I blinked while watching her. 

"I can finally confide in you the naughty secrets that I couldn't tell my other personal maids back home in France. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" Words were spilling from her mouth but I wasn't listening. I just watched in curiosity as she continued to ramble on and on. I soon realized that she had her hands clasped around the brass knobs of a double glass door. Mesmerized by the small delicate gold designed and detailing of the door, I reached out to it as I lightly grazed my fingertips against it; it must've taken the artist months to finish. Before I realised my fingers from the door I heard a light gasp. 

"Oh, I almost forgot- you probably want to get washed up, don't you?" She slowly yanked on the brass knobs she had a hold on and opened the beautiful glass doors, sending a fresh cool breeze to whip pass my face. My orbs slowly adjusted to the light that shone and twinkled by my face as she opened them. I blinked while gazing around the beautiful luxuriously kept bedroom. The quarter was probably as big as King A'yo's bedroom- maybe even bigger. She could fit up to fifty people in here, but that was only a rough guess. The room itself was painted a light rose colored pink, accented with white. An eggshell colored king sized bed was placed against the back of the wall with pink sheets and about a dozen pillows to match. There was a seating area in the center of the quarters, most likely for whenever she had personal guests. From the opposite side of her bed was a white wooden framed fireplace with a 60 inch flat screened TV hooked up right above it. A chandelier hung from the high ceilings right above what looked to be a grand piano made out of cherry wood. All in all, place itself wasn't over the top in interior designs and furnitures like Sharonia's and Shawhna's, but it still had some character. There was three doors, other than the entering one, placed throughout her room. From the looks of it this must've been the Princess suite, meaning one of these doors led straight to the Prince's, and I wasn't about to find out which one. 

"Oh my goodness! I haven't even properly introduced myself! I'm Chantel Bachard, the heiress of France... or so I say first in line to rule France? Oh, j'abdonne, I give up!" She laughed it off while waiting for my response and searching hard into my chocolate orbs causing me to look away for a moment. I gaped at her. She must've been a mad lady, if she was able to like me before she even knew me.

"Sy'dnee." I said simply while raising a hand to shake hers out of courtesy, a surprised yelp cried out of me as she took me into a bone crushing hug. My shoulders rapidly tensed. I wasn't used to such affection.

"What a beautiful name!" She exclaimed and with that I began to relax in her hold, my arms still held at my side as I came to the conclusion that I adored this lady and to me in the end, that would be my greatest downfall.

Prince Cleos POV

I nervously paced outside Chantel's room door, trying to figure out the perfect way to explain how I wanted this situation to go. I had searched the palace high and low for her, asked everyone in visual sight when I realised that she wasn't in the guest quarters I knew for sure she must've been in the princess  suite. Sometimes mother's standards were too high for her own good. After that tedious hour on the balcony I had realized I wasn't where I needed to be. Here wasn't where I needed to be. Yes, Chantel was an amazing girl and I just knew mother would hate the idea of me not marry her, hell she loved her more than she loved me but I knew Mother would hate the idea of me not being happy and half heartedly fulfilling my duties as being king simply because I hated the idea of marrying Chantel over the girl that I believed I was truly in love with. The idea added fuel to my emotions and I hesitantly opened the door to Chantels suite, storming straight in. 

I heard her harmonious hums from over the grand piano playing a few random notes, though me and her knew full well that she could play the piano better than any artist such as Beethoven, Yann Tiersen, Mozart and Bach all together. She looked at peace staring out into the open balcony not even realising that I was there before the breeze from outside slammed the door shut and her fingers lingered on the keys of the piano before she turned her head and both our eyes connected. She smiled slightly, before scooting over on the bench a little, silently gesturing for me to have a seat. It was our thing from when we were little children growing up. I'd watch Chantel's fingers glide along elegantly along each key as the harmonious melody would play. I'd always wished I had enough talent to play like her. Back then I adored Chantel, but she never paid me any mind; maybe it was the gap teeth I use to have back  in my adolescence years, or the acne and thick rimmed glasses that used to cover half of my features but to her, I was always just Cleo- her best friend. Back in pre-school, we'd always play mother and father, and gathering different colored stuffed animals and pretend those were our children. I needed her to realize that although she might've been my first crush, first kiss, and first best friend; Chantel Bachard would never be my love. She'd never be Syd'nee Diallo. And with that I let her play, moving to the empty spot on the bench beside her so that I could listen to the beautiful melodies that slipped from her fingertips letting all the memories and feelings flash by me. 

So much had happened in the day and I sighed just as she did, before she rung out the last note of the music piece she played on the piano and I realised my feelings for her had completely vanished. Silence took over us but it was nothing awkward, just basking in one another's company. Without looking at me she gently took hold of my hand while staring at the keys of the piano, most likely contemplating. She sighed, before releasing my hold. 

"You don't want to get married." It wasn't a question, and I simply nodded once, still not making eye contact as I felt her gaze suddenly shift on me. I heard her mumble something underneath her breath before I was caught off guard. It all happened so quickly, but she took my face into her small palms and kissed me, crushing our lips together forcefully. The old Cleo would have basked in this moment, finally getting a chance to say I'd kissed and made out with the soon to be Queen of France, and to be able to taunt Isaiah endlessly for accomplishing what he never could but not anymore. I let her kiss me because she would more than likely find out that I was going to be leaving and heading back to the place where I belonged. 

She would hate me. But I didn't care. 

She suddenly pulled away and looked up at me with tears flooding her dark green eyes, using a palm to wipe at her lips as she sniffled. 

"Why don't you love me?" She asked quietly and I sighed opening my mouth to speak before we both turned after hearing a series of glass smashing against the tiles. Chantel quickly got up from her spot on the bench to rush towards the girl whose face was hidden behind her mask of curls as she was bent down in nothing but a white towel, attempting to pick up the pieces of shard glass while using her other hand to keep up her towel. I wrinkled my brows while taking in her form, watching as she continued to apologize underneath her breath to Chantel who nodded her head as if brushing it off. 

"No worries dear, but you've seemed to have cut yourself!" Chantel helped the girl up onto her feet and at that very moment we connected orbs. My jaw dropped as my heartbeat began to accelerate at a rapid speed, watching her. I would've given up my entire life as being a King if it meant staying at her side and protecting her. She looked so fragile and afraid as Chantel began to lead her away and towards a door which I was assuming was the bedroom. 

"Syd'nee." I whispered just as she left the room, the door slamming shut behind them as she was tended to. 

A:N: Haaaaay followers! We've been gone for sooo long, but we're back! Please enjoy this chapter and we've enclosed a picture of Chantel's living room quarters to the top of the page! Thank you so much for 1k votes and 30+K views on our story! 

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